CHAPTER 2 #2
Victor settled down on his bed with a long sigh, dogs curled up around his feet.
When he turned, he faced a framed photograph of his parents on horseback, with a 4-year-old Victor straddling the pommel of his father’s saddle while his baby brother rode in his mother’s lap.
The dappled mare his father rode had died only four weeks after Victor’s father had, ten years ago.
His dad had loved that horse, even though no one else did.
She could be ornery and fickle, so that was why his father named her Sonrisa—as a joke.
She was gentle and quiet in his father’s capable hands, though, quiet enough that at four years old Victor was able to sit on her with his father behind and no one worried what she might do.
It was Victor’s favorite photo of his parents, though it made Victor’s chest clench to look at. He still deeply missed his father, and he wished his dad had gotten to meet the real him. They’d been so close, close enough that Victor had considered his father his best friend.
“Buenos noches, Sonrisa,” Victor said to the photo of his mustachioed, grinning father. “Buenos noches, Papá.”
* * *
The next morning, Victor got an unexpected call from Johnny Stearns.
“Howdy and good mornin’ to ya,” Johnny said. Victor was shocked people actually said howdy in real life.
“Hello,” Victor replied. “Please don’t tell me the mare’s come up lame.”
“Oh, no, she’s fine. I had another guy ride her this morning and she’s all tired out from yesterday, so she rode alright. Nah, this about somethin’ else. I looked up your place last night cuz I had seen it a couple times from the road and always wondered ‘bout it… You give lessons?”
“For you?” Victor had to ask.
Johnny laughed. “No, it ain’t for me, This is for my niece.
She’s a real firecracker—a redhead, go figure—and she can ride like the best of them but I think she wants to do more with horses than just run barrels like all the other girls, and it’d be nice to get her some real, uh, how do I say this?
Technical instruction? Teach her how to ride well, not just how to stay on a nasty bitch of a horse and run fast, which is mostly what she knows right now. ”
“I do offer lessons, but usually it’s my assistant trainer who works with kids. It’d depend on her skill level whether or not I work with her.”
“She’s a pretty good rider. I know I’m her uncle and that’s what uncles are gonna say, but she can stay on anything, and ain’t nothin’ in this world she loves more than horses.
I’d love to get her her own pony, but I can’t afford to board another horse and her mama won’t spring for it, so she’s just been riding the feedlot horses around, which ain’t doin’ her any favors if you know what I mean. ”
“Well…” Victor squinted at the calendar on his desk, which was useful insofar as he could read it.
A lot of the pencil used on it had been smudged away by dirty hands.
“I have a farrier coming by soon and a contractor coming after that to talk about some pasture drainage, but I should be free any time after four, if you wanna bring her down.”
“Aw, that’d be great if I could bring her down today. I’ll have to ask my sister, but she’ll probably be glad to get her out of the house.”
“Great. I’ll expect you some time after four then.”
Johnny hung up but had no time to process. Jade was calling his name. The farrier had arrived.
* * *
Victor was working in the round pen with his own colt when he saw an old junky pick-up truck wind its way down the gravel driveway, kicking up a plume of dust in its wake.
When Victor lost focus, his colt Cyclone came to a standstill, waited a moment, then bent to nibble at the bits of grass poking through the railing.
Victor chuckled and flicked the end of the lunge rope, which got Cyclone moving again.
Five minutes later, a tall and skinny figure in a beige cowboy hat approached the pen, followed by a smaller, skinnier figure in a matching hat. Victor attached a leadline to Cyclone’s halter, and he met the two at the gate.
“Howdy,” Johnny said, but out of his mouth it was more like hahdy. “Who’s this?” He gestured toward the horse.
“This is Cyclone, my two-year-old. Just working on some of the basics on the ground.” Victor looked down over the railing to the girl at Johnny’s side, likely nine or ten years old.
She wore a very similar outfit—dirty cowboy boots, tight jeans, and a buttoned-up shirt tucked into the waistband.
The only way she differed is that she had two red-haired braids hanging on either side of her face.
She was freckled like her uncle, with the same twist in her mouth that said trouble.
“This here is my niece Taylor.”
“Hi.” Unlike many kids her age, Taylor did not seem shy. “Are you gonna ride your horse?”
“He’s not broke yet. We were just finishing up. Why don’t you follow us back to the barn?”
“Can I lead him?” Taylor asked.
Victor couldn’t help but smile as he unlatched the gate and threw it open. “Sure, knock yourself out.”
With a grin, Taylor extended a hand, and Victor dropped the leadrope into it. As they headed up the path to the barn, Taylor fell behind, resting one hand on Cyclone’s shoulder. It was clear she was comfortable in the presence of a horse.
“She looks a bit like you,” Victor told Johnny.
“Them Stearns genes are powerful,” Johnny replied with a crooked-tooth grin.
Jade was already with a lesson group in the indoor, but they would be finishing up within fifteen minutes.
Victor directed Taylor to Cyclone’s paddock and then both Johnny and Taylor followed Victor into the barn aisle, where an industrial-sized fan hummed at the other end, creating a nice breeze in the humid late-spring air.
“Wow! You have a lot of horses!” Taylor said.
“Most of them are not mine. Come on, lemme show you who you can try out today.”
Victor led Taylor to the stall of one of his aunt’s horses, an older ranch gelding who had seen and done everything. He could put up with rough-handed children and still be a solid and fun ride under an adult. They put a lot of lesson kids on him.
“This here is Saint,” Victor told Taylor as Saint came to the gate and stuck his head over the top to say hello. “I’ll put you on him and we’ll see how you like one another.”
“Hello, Saint!” Taylor grasped his halter and hugged his head, which Saint tolerated with his usual saintliness. Can I tack him up?”
“I can help her if she needs it,” Johnny said.
“I don’t need help!” Taylor insisted, unlatching the stall gate and pulling Saint through without a leadrope.
“She don’t need help,” Johnny muttered under his breath with a roll of his eyes. Victor almost laughed. Headstrong indeed.
Victor had a variety of saddles he used for the eclectic shapes and sizes of child that came through this barn, and Saint had average withers, so most of what Victor had would fit him.
While he looked for something appropriate, Taylor brushed Saint, talking to him during the entire process.
Saint may have listened, but he appeared to be more interested in napping.
To her credit, Taylor was very thorough, lifting each foot to clean out with a pick and then brushing his mane and tail.
By the time she was done, the lesson had finished and several children were bringing their horses through the barn.
Taylor could not tack Saint herself, but she did try.
Johnny had to step in and help her tighten the girth, as Taylor was still too young to be able to muster up the strength required to properly secure it.
Victor handed her a helmet, and she looked at it like she didn’t know what it was for.
Johnny nudged her, so she let out a sigh and took it, removing her cowboy hat to do so.
Then she led the horse into the now-clear indoor ring, and Johnny grasped her calf so he could springboard her up into the saddle.
“Walk him around the ring a few times, get used to him,” Victor instructed, hanging back near the fence.
Johnny sat down on the lowest seat of the bleachers pushed back against the wall. “She take after her grandpa with how much she loves horses. My sister didn’t get that bug.”
“She must love you then.”
“Aw yeah, she’s always findin’ an excuse to spend time with my horses. People startin’ to think she’s my child.”
“The resemblance is there, down to the hat.”
“Once she wants somethin’, I can’t tell her no.” Johnny leaned back, stretching out his long legs. “She’s been wantin’ her own horse since she could sit on one, but I can’t afford to keep another one. It’s a real shame. Thought I’d make it up to her this way.”
“We’ll see how she does with Saint.” Victor then left the bleachers and headed toward the center of the ring, where it was easier to shout at Taylor and be heard. “Pick up a trot, Taylor.”
Taylor did so. Saint’s one unfortunate quality was his big bouncy trot, which gave many children trouble, but Taylor sat it well considering her size.
Victor asked her to pick up the canter, and she showed no fear in pushing forward.
Saint was a lazy bastard, so she had to keep kicking him to keep him going.
Victor didn’t meet a lot of nine-year-olds who seemed this comfortable in the saddle.
It was clear she’d done a lot of riding with her uncle.
Victor decided that if she came back, he’d put her on something a bit peppier than Saint, maybe Saturn or Blitz.
Victor proceeded with the lesson, pulling out cones to make her do serpentines, just to gauge her skill level.
She had a good seat, but she was heavy handed and she had the tendency to lean too far forward, which threw off her balance.
Given a few years of steady lessons, Victor predicted Taylor would be quite an accomplished horsewoman.